


The Shop Brat Life- Striker Eureka

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [6]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Carshop!Au, Gen, Pacific Rim - Freeform, mechanic!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:49:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1602422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy and his car OR - your first love and your first car can be the same thing....</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Part 6/? of the Shop Brat Life series of one shots based on my life as the boss's kid at a large car dealership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shop Brat Life- Striker Eureka

Chuck Hansen had spent his entire life around cars, literally from day one when his parents brought him home in that baby blue Cadillac Berlitz. He couldn’t remember a time that he didn’t have full run of the entire dealership and his father’s office. He was known to all and no one ever turned away his inquisitive little personage and when he got older it was just assumed he could help out on the shop floor. He could never fathom why his friends didn’t get excited about cars, or _worse_ didn’t understand how they worked.

He would forever be the one they called when something went wrong, with the full expectation that he could either fix it for them on the spot or would know who could. It was a burden, but he secretly reveled in and enjoyed it. He was his father’s son after all and a little power trip never seemed to hurt Dad.

With all that time spent _around_ them it seemed to take way way longer than 16 years for Chuck to finally be able to learn to drive. It was literally forever. No lie. But when he did nothing was ever the same again.

On his 16th birthday he received the greatest gift in history. His parents gifted to him their 11 year old car. Age was just a number in Chuck’s eyes and this car was so much more than just a number off a production line in the Bread Basket. She was Striker Eureka.

The Hansen’s had owned this particular car for all of Chuck’s childhood. It was a family type model Herc had bought for Angela one afternoon after he spotted it in the trade-in lot; its intended purpose -to haul Chuck and his gear around for eternity. Which it did admirably for many, many years.

But it was so much more than that to Chuck. Striker was present for every major event in Chuck’s life. When he was younger it was family vacations, soccer practice and games, afternoons spent at the lake or the park. As he got older those things continued but changed; it was in Striker his mom took him to the emergency room for the first time with a concussion, the first time he cried over a friendship gone bad, and attended the funeral of someone he loved. The car became the third person in many a conversation, or confession, and was perhaps the greatest secret keeper he would ever have.

The name ‘Striker Eureka’ just sort of happened somewhere along the middle of their journey. It was a point of debate in the Hansen household how it came about, and while Chuck knew the truth, he never let his parents get all the way there. All that mattered was that they properly address her by her name, as she deserved. That went for those damned Becket’s too. It was none of their business what he called the car that was always fated to be his someday in the future; that was between him and her.

And there had ended up being quite a bit between Chuck and Striker. She served many roles for him and his friends. With the seats up she could seat 7-8 people comfortably. With the seats down it was eight feet of cargo room, or on one occasion a great place for three people to sleep when their tent collapsed in the pouring rain.

But her best role was freedom. When his parents gave him the oldest car in their collection (‘The ancient piece of crap’ as Herc called it) they thought they were doing the world a favor. That the cars age and condition would keep their wild child in check. That backfired royally. Chuck had never been a respecter of boundaries, and now in Striker he had a 3,000 lb partner in crime.

They quickly became the terror of the neighborhood, and Chuck relished his reputation and his ability to finally indulge his intense need for speed. Striker was his ticket to freedom, no more being driven around by Mom, and he could get wherever he was going at his own pace- which was always a bit on the too fast side.

Striker wasn’t the flashiest car in the Hansen Fleet, in fact she smacked distinctly of ‘old lady’ as he had once over heard one of the Becket’s say. (It was Raleigh, and he suffered dearly for it thank you very much.) But even if that were true, it didn’t matter to Chuck. Striker had a certain stately grace that came with her vintage and body type. To be fair for her age she was loaded with power everything, and had keyless entry! It was a big deal. The radio had to go, and did about a week after his birthday. He installed the flashy aftermarket unit himself with no assistance from anyone but Max, which was how Chuck worked best.

But with her advanced age came all sorts of mechanical issues, even in a well-loved and pampered car such as Striker was; she was never made to be the best friend of a 16 year old. Luckily she always had and always would have the best care available and due to his status as the resident “boss’s kid” the turn around on a shop visit always had him on his way quickly. As far as Chuck was concerned Striker would run forever. That was the plan anyway.

His friends always gave him shit, saying that since his dad sold cars or whatever that he should have something nicer. And every once in a while Chuck would be jealous of some newer, nicer car one of his friends would come into, but he would only have to look at Striker and remember all they had shared together. How could you put a value on secrets kept and tears shed? All the things he had whispered to Striker when they were alone ranging from tirades on her performance to loving endearments? Those were the things that made a piece of machinery made from hundreds of parts and metal from a car to _car._ It was metaphysical; spiritual even but it made all the difference. No one else around him ever seemed to grasp the concept so Chuck gave up trying to explain or describe it to others. It didn’t matter if no one else understood what Striker meant to him, that she was more than the sum of her literal parts and that their shared memories and experiences elevated them to a mutual consciousness between man and machine; he knew and she _knew_.

Sure, if he asked Dad he could probably have something ‘nicer’ but he would never do that. Striker wasn’t much, but she was Chuck’s. Nothing anyone could do or say would take that away- ever. Their bond was too deep and too strong.

A boy and his car. Forever running free.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow that moment when you make yourself cry. Hopefully not all of my weird baggage carried over into this one. I thought it was time to have a look at Striker out side of its usual context. This to me is the most important thing about cars, they are the silent partners to so much of our lives; but that doesn't mean they can't carry those experiences or memories. I can distinctly remember what cars i was in and where i was when several key (and traumatic) events happened in my life, and those cars were the witnesses to my first reactions of anger or grief. It's very powerful when you have to say good bye for the last time to something that carries those emotions with you. One of the reasons i loved Pacific Rim so much was that the pilots became a part of the machines, i related to that on such a spiritual level. 
> 
> My 'Striker' was a 1993 Oldsmobile Cutlas Ciera station wagon named Serenity. She was my 16th birthday gift, but had been a member of our family for most of my life. I miss her every day, even with my bright shiney new 2013 Sentra to keep me company on the road, i sometimes long for her frumpy old looks and v6 3.5L engine. those were the days my friends, those were the days!


End file.
